Chapter 19- The Call

I'm finally doing it. Penny is letting me use her cell phone so that my mom won't recognize the caller ID and hopefully answer the phone this time. I've never been more nervous about something in my entire life. I haven't spoken to my mother since I met with her at the meeting and she handed me all of my belongings. It's such a weird feeling to be nervous to call your own mother. I'm not so nervous as to what she will say, I'm worried that she won't say anything. What if she really doesn't care about me and doesn't want to talk. What if dad has brainwashed her into hating me as well? Or worse. What if she does want to talk and curses me herself? I can accept that my dad will always be a hard, inconsiderate cold man, but mom is different. She doesn't hate me. She could never. Even when she ignored me at the meeting, I could tell that was not really her. That was something dad must have put her up to. She would never treat me that way.

I'm alone in the guest room lying down on my soft, warm mattress. Her number sits on the blank screen waiting to be dialed. I swallow my fear and dial the number. I wait for a response. After a few ring she picks up.

"Hello?"

I'm so surprised that she actually answered that I don't respond. I haven't heard her voice in what feels like forever. I miss her voice. I wonder if she misses mine.

"Hello?"

I quickly snap out of my thoughts realizing I need to respond before she hangs up.

"Mom? It's me Austin."

I say timidly.

"Oh...hi."

She seems...annoyed.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine Austin."

A short reply.

"That's good. I tried to call you on my phone, but you didn't answer."

I wait as she takes a while to respond.

"School's been going good"

She doesn't respond at all. It's like I'm talking to a wall.

"Umm, I've also been working on the songs on the album for the tour-"

"No one told you?"

She laughs at me.

"Told me what?"

"Sweety the tour was canceled. It was canceled two weeks ago."

"The benefit concert was, but not the summer tour-"

"No. Both were canceled. If you came to the meetings, you would have known that."

"Every time I went nobody was there. Last week I was there from 9 to 11 and nobody showed up. I figured it had been canceled."

"We switched the rehearsals from 12 to 3. Did you check the new schedule?"

"New schedule? The times have been the same for the past two years! Who changed-"

"It doesn't matter. The tour was canceled because we felt you weren't taking your career seriously. You blew off two concerts to run off with your girlfriend, refused to sing at a benefit concert, and missed three consecutive rehearsals. We canceled it because we didn't want to waste millions of dollars on some irresponsible kid."

"Mom, you know I had valuable reasons for missing those concerts. And the only reason I missed those rehearsals was because someone changed the times without telling me. Why are you making this seem like it's my fault?"

"Because it is! As a performer, your job is to make it to rehearsals, meetings, and perform at every concert you're asked to. Regardless of how you feel or your current mood. You're not some singing legend that can come and go as they please. You're a 16 year-old heartthrob that got lucky enough to land a few hits on the radio. That's ALL you are. I can see why your dad doesn't want anything to do with you. You're hopeless. I tried to help you and manage you until the tour, but you really messed up. Things aren't so easy to handle without a manager are they?"

"I just don't understand why I'm getting punished for things out of my control."

"There you go again. Blaming everyone else but yourself. Always playing the victim. It's sad to see after all these years, you still can't take responsibility. You're still the same selfish, lazy, irresponsible, incompetent little boy."

"That's not true."

A wimpy whisper escaped my lips.

"Aww still the same cry baby too. How sad. Don't call this number again."

The line went flat.

I pull the phone away from my ear and stare incredulously at the blank screen. The butterflies in my stomach turn into dragon flies. Fire breathing dragons, threatening to burn anything and everything in sight. Feelings of frustration, anger, confusion, and hurt swarm in all at once; Attacking me like flies to a deserted corpse. These lethal feelings slowly rise from the dark place they were held. I feel her words consume me and the panic wash over me.

Angry at old feelings rising up I roughly throw Penny's cell phone against the headboard cushioned by a soft white pillow. The phone lightly tumbles off the pillow and onto the carpet.

She was supposed to be different. This was when she was going to show me that she was different. I was wrong. She's just like dad. There is no difference. She might as well have used his same words.

I then began to feel the fire burn through my blood circulating my entire body. From my head to my neck, shoulders, arms, then my hands. Soon every tendon in my body is on fire, raging with full force. My muscles tighten as they reach a full contraction. I am a string getting pulled tighter and tighter. I'm just waiting for the next pull to tear me into pieces.

For the next hour I lay on my back and just stare at the ceiling. I imagine a dartboard painted as the world hanging on my ceiling. I violently throw darts at the board, aiming at the target, my parents. Who gets to decide why things like this happen? What did I do so wrong, to deserve two parents that despise me; that think so little of me. It's not fair! People like Ally get to have everything! She has parents that love her, friends that support her, a thriving career... A boy who's in love with her. And she doesn't even know it. As I return to my vicious attacks against the imaginary board, the person of interest changes.

Ally is the target.

I miss every time.

Thank you for reading!